


Watercolor Skies

by blushing_phan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushing_phan/pseuds/blushing_phan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of nineteen, Dan Howell is broken. By the age of 25, he's been put back together by tender hands and twinkling eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Track #1: Happy Little Pill

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! So, I suppose this could kind of be considered a songfic, but only to a certain extent. I was having some pretty nasty writer's block, so I made up a game of picking three songs by one artist (in this case Troye Sivan), and writing a story inspired by those songs. Each song has it's own chapter, and they're all relatively short. Please read the tags, as there are a few things in the fic that aren't exactly PG-13, and I don't want anybody to get upset. As always, feedback is welcomed and I hope you enjoy!

Track 1: Happy Little Pill

 _“My happy little pill, take me away. Dry my eyes, bring color to my skies.”_

Dan Howell stares down at the little tablets cradled in his shaky palm. The blue and yellow looks almost luminescent against his ashy skin. 

_Let go._

Loud music pulses all around him, in a bar he’s far too young to be in, with such ferocity that he can feel it in his bones and in his heart, a dull thumping that reminds him he’s alive. 

_How unfortunate._

His gaze travels up to his reflection, and he looks into his own empty eyes, brain full of static. There’s a split down the middle of his dry lips, blood staining his chin, but Dan can’t be bothered to wonder what happened. His cheeks look sunken, the dim lighting of the dirty bathroom casting skeletal shadows beneath his eyes. 

Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation catching up with him at last. 

_Forget._

He can sense his brain beginning to relapse, and a tingle of panic, the sole sensation that could slip past the numb shroud Dan had used to smother his senses, paralyzes him. 

_Not again,_ he pleads, trying to coax his subconscious to be deadened again, craving the white void that suffocates his emotions. 

_Succumb._

Before he can stop it, memories flood him like a hurricane: heavy panting mingling with the sound of his own sobbing, muffled by an unfamiliar, calloused hand, feeling his own spirit being torn to shreds, and the smell of stale cigarettes and too much alcohol. All of the sudden, the room is far too bright and all the sounds far too loud. He feels empty. 

_You have to let go._

_You have to forget._

_Just succumb._

Without hesitation, Dan throws his head back and swallows all three of the pills at once, willing his body to sink back into oblivion. 

_Let go._

_Forget._

_Succumb._


	2. Track #2: Touch

_“Standing in the eye of the storm, my eyes start to roam to the curl of your lips in the centre of eclipse. In total darkness I reach out and touch.”_

The wood of the door beneath Dan’s back is cool to the touch and he shivers when his bare skin touches it. Phil’s hand cups the back of his neck, his warm fingers pressing into Dan’s flesh as his lips, a little chapped and mesmerizing, trace constellations along his jaw. 

He can hear himself making soft, stuttering noises as his body arches into the heat of Phil pressed up against him, but his mind is preoccupied with the scent of Phil’s shampoo and the sensation of his nose tickling Dan’s ear, and he doesn’t even realize that his hands are plastered to his sides until Phil whispers 

“Touch me.” 

Shivers crawl up his spine like fireworks and he wills himself back down from the atmosphere to focus on Phil. When Dan opens his eyes, there’s a smile on Phil’s kiss-swollen lips, the kind that made Dan’s world coalesce like a watercolor painting. 

Even in the dark of their flat, Phil’s beauty is undeniable and Dan thinks it must be some sort of miracle that he had found the world’s only angel after he fell down from the sky. His eyes travel from the curl of Phil’s lips up to his eyes, noting his dilated pupils, and he recalls something he learned years ago, when things were bleaker: 

_“Whenever we see someone we love, the pupils of our eyes dilate and grow larger. It's almost as if our eyes are trying to see as much of this person as possible. This is an involuntary and uncontrollable physiological response.”_

Love. 

A flood of realization ignited Dan’s veins, and it came to him, in crystal clarity. 

The reason he doesn’t flinch away from Phil’s touch, the reason he isn’t overwhelmed with nausea at the sensation of Phil’s warm breath against his cheek, the reason he isn’t afraid anymore. 

He was in love. 

A thrill runs through his body, touching his reformed spirit, and before he loses his nerve, Dan grabs Phil by his shoulders and presses him against the wall. He runs his fingertips along Phil’s arms before threading their fingers together, pinning Phil’s hands on either side of his head. 

He leans in with fleeting hesitation before their lips touch and Dan feels an entire galaxy forming behind his eyes.


	3. Track #3: for him.

_“Sickeningly sweet like honey, don’t need money, all I need is you.”_

It’s nearly 2 o’clock in the morning and glittering snow filled the air like falling stars. Phil sits on his knees, nose practically pressed against the frosted window pane, his eyes following the trails of various snowflakes as they floated gently down onto the vacant London street below. 

Dan sits on the sofa, watching him fondly. 

Phil was all of the lovely things about winter; the wooly jumpers and the sensation of a hot mug in cold hands, waking up in a chilly room swaddled in snug blankets and rosy, wind-kissed cheeks. 

As Dan gazes on in wonder, unable to overcome just how enamoured he was, Phil leaps to his feet and practically hops to the door. He looks at Dan, his pale eyes twinkling, and before Dan could even ask what in the world he was doing, he was darting out into the corridor. 

Dan rolls his eyes lovingly, before deciding it would be best for him to follow. 

Down in the streets, with no coat, no shoes, and an unwielding sense of optimism, Dan stopped and stared. 

Phil had his arms stretched towards the open Heavens, his head tipped back, his eyes closed. With all of the snow, the world was muffled and soft, and Phil’s tinkling laughter sounded particularly effervescent against the quiet world. 

His eyes fluttered open, and he turned to look at Dan, his eyes full of light, before he took off running towards him and leaped into his arms. 

With no forewarning, Dan had no opportunity to brace for the impact and, with a startled yelp, they went tumbling together into a snowbank. 

Phil’s sprightly laughter doubled, and it was all but impossible for Dan to resist joining in, dazed both by the prickling cold and Phil’s ethereal existence. 

He tilted his head up when Phil leaned down and rubbed the tips of their cold noses together, a deep blush blooming like a cluster of poinsettias on his cheeks. 

A moment more of giggling together in a secluded corner of the world, entwined, enraptured by the sickeningly sweet aphrodisiac of love, and then Phil is sitting on Dan’s tummy and looking into his eyes in a new kind of way, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. 

There’s a moment or two of fumbling, before Phil pulls Dan up and sits before him on his knees, looking as though he were on the verge of something beautiful, and Dan doesn’t even see the little velvet box until his eyes are already welling up and he’s thinking about how silly he must look with snow in his hair. 

“Will you marry me?” 

That night, on a quiet street, early in the morning, when hope is highest and love knows no bounds, Dan Howell doesn’t feel the tear in his spirit. He doesn’t feel the gaping emptiness. 

And he never will again.


End file.
